


The Interlude

by tinacita



Category: Only Lovers Left Alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:25:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinacita/pseuds/tinacita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2 of "The Mysterious Composer" ... Christina continues to work on the piece Adam created ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Interlude

The next two weeks were quite interesting.

After leaving Adam’s, I went back to my apartment, and plugged the drive into my laptop.

There were 3 files – 2 of me dancing while Adam was playing, and a text file. In the file was a message from Adam …

_My dearest Christina_

_If you should find yourself … stuck … again, please do not hesitate to call upon me again. It was incredible to see you become one with my music. It touched me, like nothing has, for a very long time._

_Adam_

I gasped as I read it. Admittedly, I was intrigued by Adam. He was different from anyone else that I’d ever met – he was handsome, exceptionally talented, fascinating. I think I may actually …

Shaking my head, I opened the first video and watched it. I did the same with the second one. Then I replayed the second one, closing my eyes, and listening intently.

Without realizing it yet again, I had started dancing to Adam’s amazing music. When it was finished, I opened my eyes. I walked back over to the desk, grabbed my tablet, and started making some notes.

For the next few days, I took my laptop with me to the studio. Because I was working on a solo, I had my own private space in which to choreograph and rehearse.

I would attend the rehearsals for the other 2 numbers in which I was dancing, take a break, and then spend about an hour working on Adam’s piece before returning home.

Soon I was feeling very good about my choreography. I had one day left before Carmen was due to see it.

There was one thing that was bothering me. I missed Adam. He was constantly on my mind, and even invading my dreams. So that evening I decided to pay him a visit, under the guise of showing him what I had accomplished thus far.

The sun was setting as I arrived at the decrepit looking house. I was nervous as I approached; the kind of nervous that you get before seeing a new show, or, childishly, before your first date.

The door buzzed open before my fingers reached the buzzer. Smiling, I entered, and headed for the grand piano. That seemed to be “our” meeting spot. Besides, I didn’t want to appear too intrusive by just heading upstairs.

Walking over to the exquisite instrument, I sat down on the bench and closed my eyes. I was imagining Adam playing for me again.

After a few moments, I opened my eyes and yelped.

“Adam!”

He merely looked at me from his spot on the bench next to me.

“I didn’t even feel you sit down!” I exclaimed.

“What were you picturing?” he asked softly.

Quickly looking away to hide the blush that I felt reddening my face, I replied, “ _La campanella_.”

“It is such a complex and beautiful piece,” he said.

I nodded, my eyes focused on the keys.

“Are you experiencing further creative difficulties?” he inquired.

Standing up, I answered, “No, um, well …”

Adam began softly playing as he waited for a more coherent response.

Turning around I whispered, “Rachmaninoff.”

He nodded and continued with the piece.

Sitting down on the floor by the bench, I took a deep breath. “I … I came to show you the dance,” I said just loudly enough for him to hear.

My head was down, so I didn’t see him look at me. He finished before squatting down in front of me.

“Is that all?” he asked.

When I finally looked up, Adam took my breath away. He looked like some sort of dark, mysterious angel, with his hair covering half his face and his dark eyes.

Without waiting for further response, he gently pulled me up and led me through the bizarre maze to the 3rd floor.

I noticed that the center of the room was still empty. Had he been waiting for me?

Clearing my mind of such foolish nonsense, I took off my coat and shoes, and walked over to him.

Handing him the thumb drive, he regarded it curiously.

“I downloaded everything onto my laptop, so I’m returning it,” I said.

Adam merely nodded and set it on the table. Then he walked over and lovingly picked up the guitar he used to record the piece.

“If you’re playing, you can’t watch,” I argued.

A hint of a smile fell over his lips.

“Yes, I can. Take your place, please,” he replied softly.

I did as I was told, and then he began to play. I closed my eyes, and then my body took over. Finishing about halfway through, as that was as far as I had choreographed, I waited expectantly until Adam had finished.

“Well?” I asked.

Adam didn’t respond at first; instead he replaced his guitar gently on the rack.

“It suits you,” he replied.

“It suits me?” I questioned, not really understanding.

Before he could reply, a loud crack of thunder exploded outside, followed by the harsh sound the rain hitting the roof.

I jumped at the sudden noise, and Adam went over to his laptop. I saw him pulling up a weather website, and shaking his head slightly. Going to another website, he quickly typed something, and then turned around to find me watching him.

“There is a front passing through. These storms will persist for another hour or so. I have rescheduled the taxi to pick you up then,” he said.

“Oh … ok,” I said, still shaken not only by the storm but by his comment as well.

“Are you all right Christina?” he asked, approaching me.

“Yeah … I just … uh … don’t like thunderstorms,” I answered.

Extending his hand, we returned to the small room on the 1st floor. Gesturing for me to join him at the piano, I sat down.

I watched, enthralled, as he began to play for me again.

“Gershwin,” I sighed.

Adam nodded, and continued playing. Admittedly, the familiar music soothed my anxiety, and I felt much better.

He glanced at the grandfather clock on the far wall, and stood up. Once again he led me up to his studio, where I put on my shoes and coat.

As we were walking back downstairs, I asked, “What did you mean earlier?”

Adam paused, and looked at me. Every time he did so, I felt something.

“When you first danced it, you weren’t thinking. You simply allowed the music to move you. The dance, your dance, IS you. It is an extension of what you feel when you listen to it,” he replied.

I gasped at his revelation. I wanted to say something, to thank him for creating it, but no words were formed when I opened my mouth.

Adam smiled that slight smile again, and took my hand. Kissing it, he said softly, “I am very pleased by what you have done so far. I am quite sure Carmen will agree.”

Mustering up all the courage I possessed, I asked, “Can I come and see you again?”

Still holding my hand, he inquired, “Are you foreseeing further difficulties?”

Feeling the blush on my face, I quickly looked down, trying to formulate an answer that wouldn’t make me sound pathetic. Suddenly I felt Adam’s cool fingers tilting my chin up, forcing me to look at him.

His eyes were hypnotic; every time I gazed into them I was rendered speechless.

“You really shouldn’t be out this way at night. It’s not particularly safe. You should be home resting. Dancers need to recharge daily in order to perform well,” he said softly.

Between holding my hand and his fingers on my chin, I was still unable to speak. What I really wanted to do was kiss him, but I knew I wouldn’t.

“Adam …” I sighed.

As he brushed his cool hand across my cheek, I couldn’t help but whimper.

He was about to say something when the taxi’s headlights shone through the windows.

“Please be careful Christina,” he whispered before opening the door.

I looked at him one final time before leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, I showed my work in progress to Carmen, and she was very pleased. She was excited to see the completed work, which needed to be done in another 2 weeks.

I so wanted to thank Adam for everything, but he didn’t seem to want any more visits for me.

That didn’t stop me from constantly thinking about him. Plus, whenever I thought about Adam, it was like my whole body was on fire. Thankfully, I had my dancing to focus on, so all of time wasn’t consumed by him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With some extra effort, mainly because I was concentrating on Adam so much, I was able to finish choreographing my dance.

Carmen was thrilled when she saw the completed work. She hugged me – which was rare in itself – and then she told me how proud she was of me. She explained that she always knew that I could do something worthwhile like this, but that I needed the right piece of music.

I thanked her profusely for the opportunity, and then we went to her office to choose a costume, and discuss a lighting design.

There were only 2 weeks of rehearsals left before our performances began, and I was so busy that I almost forgot about Adam. ALMOST.

It was only at night, in bed, when my mind wandered to the mysterious composer. I thought about him kissing my hand, his cool fingers caressing my cheek, his soulful eyes watching me dance.

Unfortunately, all this did was frustrate me and make me sad. I truly missed him. I missed his music as well.

I wanted to invite him to the opening night performance, but I couldn’t even be sure that he’d want to come.

Nonetheless, I purchased a ticket for him, and dropped it off one afternoon. Since I didn’t get a response when I rang the bell, I figured that he was out. So I slid the envelope under the door. I had enclosed a short note with his ticket …

_Adam_

_I don’t even know if you’d want to attend, but here is a ticket for the opening night performance. I’d really like you to see the whole dance._

_Thank you for everything._

_Christina_

I thought about him on the drive back to my apartment, wondering what he’d think, and desperately hoping that Adam would come to see me dance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
